


All Her Children

by petals42_tumblr (rosepetals42)



Series: Teen Wolf Tumblr Fics [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Gen, The focus is: Melissa McCall is a badass mother, Well Canon Compliant Plus Sterek, canon compliant death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7762792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetals42/pseuds/petals42_tumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of fics about Melissa McCall's relationship with all her children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scott

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as part of Melissa McCall week over on tumblr

**All Her Children: Scott**

Scott is always part of her plan.

On paper, it is going so well. She finishes nursing school and they get married and then twenty months later, she is pregnant. Also planned. And she cries with joy when she sees the pregnancy test and calls Rafe right away and maybe there is a touch- just a touch – of sorrow that there really isn’t anyone else to call, no parents or siblings, but then she goes to work and tells the other nurses and it is all smiles and laughter and offers to sneak in an early ultrasound - even though they all know it will show nothing - and she is so _happy_.

Rafe flat out refuses to give up alcohol in solidarity with her but he picks up plain vanilla ice cream that she eats for breakfast because it doesn’t taste so foul coming back up. He misses a few doctor appointments because of work but he doesn’t make fun of her when she reads all the baby books aloud even though she is a nurse and already knows most of it. He doesn’t follow _everything_ that happens but he likes debating names and finally gets the baby’s room cleared of boxes and they are happy.

At least, that’s what she tells herself. And she focuses. On the baby, on making sure she’s eating right and has all the paperwork ready and doesn’t drive Dr. Ranner _too_ crazy with her near constant stream of questions.

She focuses so much that, two weeks before the due date, when she is just getting ready to head home from her third to last shift, and her water breaks – that’s when she realizes _she has no idea what she’s doing_.

It is the wrong time to panic. She knows that. She also knows that it’s just a knee jerk reaction to the knowledge that _a human being is coming out of you and you will be responsible for him or her._ She knows it will blow over, that she won’t actually die. Hell, she has calmed down women in this exact moment. She knows that she will be okay. But she barely manages to stammer out to Lisa what’s happened and instantly everyone is _trying_ to calm her down and all she can think is:

_I can’t do this. I don’t know anything about babies. This was a mistake. I can’t-_

She calms down but only on the outside. Only because she has to. She manages to smile between contractions and nod understandingly when Rafe says he is on his way but might be another few hours and – _she was supposed to have another two weeks._

In the end, she doesn’t even have two hours. So, like it or not, her husband isn’t there. And she has the crazy, _crazy_ thought that maybe she should wait to hold him – Scott, they had decided; if it was a boy, he would be Scott – until Rafe got there but the doctor doesn’t give her a chance.

They smile and tell her he is healthy and then suddenly he is there in front of her. He has already stopped crying and then when they put him in her arms, he blinks up at her and _smiles_ and-

She is a mother. She is a mother and he is her son and she loves him more than she could possibly say.

So she holds him and smiles and, in that moment, everything is perfect. There is no tiny, nagging thread of doubt about her marriage or worry about the future or sense that the plan won’t work out.

The plan is working out. She has her baby. In three years, she’ll have another and her life is wonderful _._ No, not wonderful, _perfect._

Scott is perfect and he is her son and _she is a mother._

It’s just as incredible as she imagined.

*^*^*^


	2. Stiles

**All Her Children: Stiles**

She almost turns Stiles away when she first sees him.

She isn’t proud of it, but it… the plan is falling apart.

A week earlier, Rafe – no, _Rafael_ –pushed Scott down the stairs and then he sobered up and cried and she forced him to leave anyway and then, this morning, after a week of phone calls and numbly nodding along to apologies and promises to do better, she called and told her lawyer that she wanted a divorce, that she couldn’t risk it and-

Despite giving up and going to bed as soon as she put Scott to sleep, she is tired. She has managed to stop crying but only barely and her plan – the new plan – is to make sure Scott has enough food to eat, double check that he has at least semi-clean clothes for tomorrow and then let him play video games or watch TV for as long as he wants because at this moment, she doesn’t have the strength to be a good mother. She knows Scott will want to celebrate the fact that she is still home from work (she requested the whole week off but she has to go back. Soon.) He will want to be pushed on the swing set that Ra- that _he_  had put up in the backyard or play make-believe or be read to and she… she just can’t.

So when she hears the school bus and manages to drag a smile on her face only to open the door and see Scott _and_ another little boy staring hopefully up at her, her heart sinks.

“Hey, Mom!” Scott says, the same bright smile spreading across his face that she first fell in love with. “This is Stiles. I told him he could come play! But we have to call his mom an’ let her know.”

Scott is bouncing with excitement and next to him, his friend – Stiles – isn’t much better. He is smiling a bit shyly but nodding eagerly along with what Scott says and his clothes are dirty and she _knows_ with all the certainty of a mother, that Stiles’ presence will not be a calming one in her household.

Stiles must sense her hesitation because as she takes a breath to tell him that today is not a good day, that he should come a different time, that she’s very sorry but they are busy, she swears he _gets_ it. Scott is already halfway in the door, but Stiles takes a small step backwards.

It’s that tiny movement that does it. Well, that and Scott’s frown of part-confusion, part-dismay as he catches it. Because his frown swings from Stiles to her and he won’t believe that his father is on a business trip forever. She’ll have to tell him and, oh God, what will she _say_ and-

“Great!” she says. She can do this. She can just turn on the TV for both of them and pray that Stiles’ mother doesn’t ask too many questions about how he spent his afternoon and one pack of Mac and Cheese is big enough for two small boys and herself. She hasn’t been that hungry anyway. “Do you know your number, Stiles?”

Her desk is a mess of divorce options and paperwork and forms for taking a leave of absence but if she digs, she might be able to find the student directory.

“I do,” Stiles says, smiling proudly. Then his smile drops and he frowns. “But, really, you don’t hav'ta call.”

“I think I should,” Melissa replies, keeping the smile on her face even as every nurse sense she has goes off. Please, no. Please, not another- what if they _talked_ and Scott _realized_ and-

“Okay,” Stiles says, sounding only a bit uncertain. “But she’s a little… she forgets stuff. So she prob'bly won’t even know if I get home late.”

The relief that hits Melissa is staggering. Nothing seriously wrong. Just a mother who is a little scatterbrained and honestly, what mother isn’t?

“She’s never forgotten you, though, has she?” she asks, glancing back as she heads towards the phone.

“No,” Stiles says, squinting in concentration. It involved scrunching up only half his face and biting his bottom lip and it is adorable. “I guess not.”

“Stiles is too awesome to forget!” Scott pipes up and Melissa’s heart goes warm as Stiles grins over at her son.

“Well then we _really_ have to call,” she says and Stiles nods and recites his phone number and the boys don’t wait around for Melissa to actually make the phone call so by the time she is explaining to Claudia Stilinski that Stiles is safe with her and yes, he is welcome to stay for dinner and, of course, he can come over when she goes in for a doctor’s appointment in a couple weeks, they are already outside.

They are playing a game that seems to involve dinosaurs and dragons and maybe talking cars and Melissa stares at the pile of papers on her desk for all of a second before deciding to go join them.

 *^*^


	3. Allison

**All Her Children: Allison**

Melissa remembers this part.

She remembers Scott’s repeated, confused questions. She remembers him squinting at her as he tries to understand her answers of “Daddy is just living somewhere else for a while. He still loves you very much.” She remembers his complete faith that she speaks the truth and then she remembers as it gradually starts to unravel.

He is nine when he turns to her and shakes his head firmly over the flimsy excuses she tries to come up with. She stops talking. He stops asking. Stops waiting. Stops expecting.

She still remembers his face: hurt, confused, but mostly _done_ and she vows that he will never get close enough to hurt her son again. They will rely on him for _nothing_. He is gone and they will move on.

So she stops mentioning him and Scott stops asking. Though she doesn’t fool herself for one second into thinking it’s because he fully understands. She doesn’t he doesn’t. He will watch the sheriff with a faint hint of questioning around the curve of his mouth or tilt his head in thought as he observes the other fathers at various school activities and-

He doesn’t get it. Melissa can’t help him. She doesn’t understand either.

But she tries to make it perfect and when the unanswerable question tears itself from his lips, she does what all mothers do when faced with the impossible.

Stiles is never confused, she remembers. Even at five, Stiles had sensed something was wrong with her and then he and Scott had pretty much grown up with one foot in the hospital and there is never any doubt that Stiles knows exactly what is happening.

She remembers his utter calm in the moment, the way his eyes met hers for an instant before fleeing back to his feet, the way his hands curled into fists when he tells her: “She died. I’d like to see Scott.”

She remembers his anger and his panic attacks and his misplaced sense of guilt that no one can get him to abandon. She remembers he only lets it out at night; that one night, two weeks later, she had snapped awake at the opening of her door in the way that only mothers do, instinctively expecting Scott, only to find Stiles red-eyed, embarrassed, and already moving away from her.

He’d looked shocked at himself and Melissa took unashamed advantage of his bewildered gaze and stilted movements. She rose and dragged him to the kitchen and it wasn’t until she had set a glass of water in front of him and he’d stared at it silently for a full minute that she remembered what she was supposed to do.

She is still embarrassed it took her that long. It didn’t the next time.

It won’t this time.

She opens the door to find Allison standing there, eyes stubbornly full of tears she won’t let fall, mouth struggling to form the words “Is Scott home?” and Melissa does the only thing that she can do. The only thing there is to do.

She opens her arms and pulls Allison in and mutters meaningless words and just  _holds_ her.

It won’t help but Victoria isn’t there to do it anymore and Melissa knows that someone has to.


	4. Isaac

**All Her Children: Isaac**

 

She is working too much.

She knows that. The other nurses know that. The doctors know that. It’s probably not healthy but she hasn’t made a mistake yet so there is no real reason to stop signing up for every available shift. And then she finds a part-time job at an Urgent Care center down the road and takes that too. She is burning herself out and she knows that and she also knows that burning out isn’t an option.

She just hopes that _Scott_ doesn’t know it. She hopes he is too busy with his werewolf-things- like running through the woods with Stiles or hunting with Isaac or saving the world or whatever it is he does. She hopes he never notices how the house is slowly falling apart, how eleven years of _Oh, we can fix that later_ has suddenly decided that _later_ cannot wait. She hopes he doesn’t see how much red writing lines the outside of the envelopes that come in the mail, hopes he never finds out how often she plugs her ex-husband’s number into her phone only to delete it at the last possible moment.

She hopes he doesn’t know.

Because three weeks ago, Scott had brought home Isaac and Melissa had taken one look at Isaac’s hunched shoulders and practically empty duffel bag and she had said, “Yes, yes, of course, come in. Stay as long as you like” and dammit, she had _meant_ it and if Scott found out about the precious hours she spends cutting coupons rather than sleeping, he might panic and try to fix it and Melissa knows that in these situations, teenage boys can’t fix it.

Mothers can. And so she will.

Probably not tonight though.

Because tonight she is coming off her fifth twelve-hour shift in a row from the hospital and she had scattered five hour stints at the Urgent Care center in between them and she has been trying not to eat food from the overpriced cafeteria so she is hungry.

She has a few very clear goals: Eat a cup of her favorite yogurt, take a shower, go to sleep. Try not to think about the fact that she has to be up at seven the next morning.

She pulls up to the driveway, grateful that she didn’t fall asleep at the wheel, telling herself that the day was a success. She hadn’t accidentally killed anyone, she hadn’t gotten into a car crash, and, if she rushed, she could get a full seven hours of sleep.

She stumbles into her kitchen, noting dimly that the light is on in the living room so Scott must still be awake but she doesn’t give it too much thought. Her mind is already focused on the food she knows she has waiting for her and when she pulls the door of the fridge open she-

“God _dammit_ , Scott,” she growls. There is no yogurt. There is no yogurt and she is exhausted and all the mechanisms she has in place that are supposed to stop this sort of thing fail and-

She hears Scott enter the kitchen and she doesn’t wait for him to ask what is wrong.

“If you are going to eat my yogurt, you have to at _least_ make sure we still have some!” she snaps, frantically pushing things around to check to see if there are any in the back. “I mean, really, you know they’re my favorite and I won’t have time to go grocery shopping and – it’s just _rude_ and I thought I had raised you better than-”

She cuts off with a wordless sigh of despair and gives up on finding anything worth eating in the fridge. There is nothing. She could heat up the leftover enchiladas she had made three nights ago that she suspects Scott is leaving for her but she doesn’t have _time_ and she doesn’t _want_ that and-

It is as she twists her head around to glare at Scott that she realizes she’s made a mistake. Because, doubtlessly, she would feel bad if she turned and Scott was standing there, eyes wide and apologetic, face already flushed with guilt, but Scott is her son and they know each other and Melissa would glare and put off apologizing until the next morning and Scott wouldn’t accept her apology and it would be okay.

But she’s made a mistake.

Because it is not Scott standing across the counter.

It is Isaac. He is holding a cup of yogurt and his eyes are not wide and apologetic but wide and _terrified_ and something in her stomach shrivels up and _dies_.

“Isaac!” she says, turning fast enough that he _flinches_. “Oh, god, I thought you were Scott I-”

“I’m sorry,” the boy sputters. He is so hunched over that for a moment it seems she is taller than him. His eyes are flicking between her face and her hands too quickly for her to follow. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t know. Here. You can have the rest.”

He takes a quick step forward to put the container on the counter and then darts back two steps. He is breathing too fast. Melissa’s heart is beating at the same tempo.

“Oh, no, no, sweetie,” she says, waving a hand and taking a step forward. “You have it. I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.”

“Y-you should have it,” he stammers. “Please. I don’t- I shouldn’t have just taken it. I’m-”

He’s not looking at her. His eyes have fallen to the ground and he is shifting on his toes as if he’s ready to run and Melissa is grateful only in that it gives her a chance to take a deep breath and push back the horror from her face and the tears back from her eyes and _focus_.

She hadn’t needed to read his file or hear Scott’s fumbled explanation to know that the seemingly confident teenager who has found a place by Scott’s side is not as okay as he likes everyone to think.

She takes a deep breath. She can do this.

“Isaac,” she says, firmly enough to get him to look up at her. “It’s okay.”

She grabs the yogurt and moves slowly towards him. He freezes and lets her but his muscles still jump when she places her hand on his elbow.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” she says, looking up at him steadily. “I’m the one who’s sorry, okay? It’s not a big deal. I was just being a baby.”

“No,” Isaac says, shaking his head. “No, I should’ve checked. Really, I-”

“You don’t need to check,” she interrupts. She holds the cup of yogurt up higher until he wraps his fingers around it and then she lets go. “Everything in this house is yours.”

She steps away and he doesn’t move except to look down at the cup in his hand. He seems to still be waiting for something so she goes to her purse and grabs the last five dollars from her wallet.

“Though,” she says, placing the crumpled bill in front of him. “would you please pick some more up sometime tomorrow? I’m working- otherwise I would do it myself.”

His head snaps up to stare at her as if she’s not quite real and lets out a shaky breath.

“Okay,” he says, his head nodding slowly at first and then faster. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.”

She smiles at him and pats him on the shoulder as she heads to her room, purposefully not looking back.

She smiles even wider when she returns home the next day to see an entire shelf of her fridge crammed with yogurt of every imaginable flavor.

And it stays like that for weeks.

But, really, she is happiest when, a few months later, she opens the fridge and it hasn’t been restocked at all.


	5. Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order fluff?

**All Her Children: Derek**

 

Beacon Hills is a strange place.

Strange and, really, a bit silly.

Because it makes no sense that she can spend a Thursday night clutching a baseball bat as Pixies try to claw her eyes out, can pullDerek back from where he is desperately trying to protect her, can shove him down, wave her bat in his face and tell him to _let himself heal for five freaking minutes, please_. It’s silly that he huffs but listens to her and it’s, quite frankly, ridiculous that she spends the next few minutes flailing around and hitting Pixies until Derek recovers enough to roar and start fighting again and Stiles and Scott manage to send them back to… wherever it is they came from.

However, maybe the most ridiculous thing about Beacon Hills is that the next time she sees Derek Hale is at the bank.

It’s a Wednesday and she is taking advantage of her day off to go move some money from Checking to Savings (her hospital had recently received a grant that meant it could afford to pay the Head Nurses an extra $200 a month and her adopted pack of werewolves had managed to handle a surprisingly large majority of the construction of the house under Lydia’s close supervision, so she was pleased to say she was finally moving money in the right direction) and the bank is empty.

Well, empty except for her and two tellers and Derek Hale.

The last time she’d seen him, his shirt was ripped open and blood was streaming from a cut on his forehead and now he is in clean jeans and a well-fitting sweater and-

Derek Hale uses her bank. It’s ridiculous.

 

She would be more embarrassed by the look of incredulity that must be all over her face if he didn’t look just as surprised at seeing her. He has frozen, staring at her with wide eyes as if he’s been caught doing something bad and it makes her smile.

“Good morning, Derek,” she says, walking forward to stand at the station next to him. The werewolf has now saved her life on more than on occasion. The least he deserves is a warm greeting. Plus, ever since Stiles once pointed out that Derek literally panics whenever anyone is nice to him, she can’t help but be extra nice. Because he deserves it. And because it’s a little funny.

(Having Stiles spend an alarming amount of time at her house for ten years has affected her more than she cares to admit.)

“Uh, hey- hi, Mrs. McCall,” he says, nodding at her. She’s told him he can call her Melissa on more than one occasion but he seems content to stick with what Stiles and the others call her, even though he is now twenty-three years old and for all intents and purpose, an adult.

She can’t help but find it absolutely endearing.

“What are you doing here so early?” she asked idly, pulling out deposit forms and checking her wallet to see if she needed cash. The person helping Derek must be in the back so she doesn’t feel bad about chatting. The other teller is on the phone but gives Melissa a smile and a nod to signify he will be with her soon.

“Nothing,” Dereks says quickly. Too quickly. She blinks at him, confused.

“I just meant that I’m pretty sure if Scott and Stiles didn’t have class they would sleep until noon every day,” she clarifies. She didn’t imagine that Derek would be someone who is a little touchy about what they do at the bank but- everybody has their things. “I feel like young people are nocturnal nowadays.”

“Oh,” Derek says and some of the tension goes out of his shoulders. “Oh, I mean- I run. In the mornings. So I wake up early. Usually around six. Or six thirty.”

Melissa nods as if that wasn’t a strangely specific answer and then the woman helping Derek is back and she politely looks away.

Of course, she can’t help but listen. That’s just how ears work.

“Alright, Mr. Hale,” the lady says, laying down what looks like a formidable stack of paper. “You know the drill. If you still want to keep this anony-”

“I do,” Derek says, cutting her off. Melissa watches out of the corner of her eye as he looks at her for the quickest moment before looking back down. “It’s all the same. I’ll just sign, yeah?”

She can’t help it. Her curiosity is piqued.

And it wouldn’t be if he weren’t acting so shady. So, really this is his fault.

(God, she really has been spending too much time with Stiles.)

“Yessir!” the teller chirps as Derek starts furiously scrawling his signature on pages. “Just to clarify, this payment is going to 43 Archway Roa-”

“Yes,” Derek says, cutting her off quickly. He sounds almost desperate. “Yes, it’s the same. It’s all the same as last time. No need to confirm.”

His eyes cut to her again and Melissa frowns. Something about that address is familiar and Derek is acting jumpy and-

“Stiles!” she says aloud. The teller looks over at her, clearly confused, but Derek freezes. She has him.

“That’s the address for the Eichen House!” She says. “What are you-”

She stops. Derek is bright red. The woman behind the counter looks a bit scandalized, especially as she turns completely to face them.

“You’re paying for Stiles’ medical bills,” she says softly, and she knows her face is has already broken into a small, grateful smile. Derek doesn’t see it though. He is staring resolutely at the papers on his desk.

“No,” he says. He glances up long enough to see her raise an eyebrow. She knows he is. John had mentioned it during one of their dinners (dinners, not _dates_ no matter what Scott says), that he was relieved he no longer had to worry about paying Stiles’ medical bills as it turned out there was a clause that said his health insurance _could_ cover it if Stiles only stayed a certain amount of time or something and- well, he had chuckled and said he wasn’t looking into it too much.

“Derek,” she says. He chews on his bottom lip. Her eyes aren’t filling with tears. They aren’t. He’s just so- It’s just so-

It’s just so kind and decent and he looks so  _embarrassed_  that she figured it out.

“You can’t tell him,” Derek finally says, almost gruffly. “And it’s not a big deal. I just- it’s-”

His fist clenches and Melissa has pity on him.

“I won’t say a word,” she promises. She also won’t say a word about the massive crush she is quite certain Derek is harboring for Stiles.

But, oh, she’s going to remember this. This may be the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to her before 10am on a Wednesday.

“Sir?” the teller asks, clearly confused. “Do you want to sign the others or-?”

“No!” Derek yelps. “No, I’ll just… come back. Tomorrow. It’s fine. I just remembered I have to- uh, I’ll see you later, Mrs. McCall.”

He all but flees the building and Melissa is left standing with a dumb, fond smile on her face when it hits her-

Others? Anonymous? Money being randomly…

“Derek!” she yells as she exits the building. She may have left her wallet on the counter but it’s a bank. They’ll keep it safe.

He is cutting across the parking lot but he stops when she calls his name another time.

At least he isn’t a total idiot. If he had tried to run, she may have killed him.

She catches up to him and just stares for a moment, unsure whether she wants to hit him or hug him. His hands are buried in his pockets, his blush travelling past his beard into his neck and she swears that he is somehow still going for casual as he nods at her.

“Oh, hi,” he tries. Like he hadn’t been talking to her thirty seconds before. “What do you-”

“There is no new hospital grant, is there?” she says. It’s not really a question.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, attempting to meet her eyes evenly.

“The new hospital grant. Giving senior head nurses an extra _$200_ a month, Derek. That grant. It doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t-”

“Derek Hale,” she snaps, putting on her best mom voice. “I swear to goodness if you lie to me one more time, I’m going to hit you. And it will hurt. Werewolf or no.”

He deflates.

“You weren’t supposed to even _notice_ ,” he mutters, his voice nearly a whine. She snorts. There was no way that she wasn’t going to _notice_ $200 extra turning up in her bank account every month. Maybe to Derek it isn’t that much, but to _her_ , to anyone who has spent hours doing calculations and shifting to rice-based meals or soups that she can stretch with just water and chicken bouillon, it’s… it’s…

“Look,” he says, straightening and maybe trying to sound firm. “It’s not a big deal. When my parents- I mean… I just have it, okay? I have fucking – _freaking_ lots of it and I don’t deserve it and don’t want it and so-”

She pulls him into a fierce hug, standing on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around his neck and squeezes as hard as she can because he’s a werewolf and he can take it and-

Maybe a stronger person would tell him he had to stop. Maybe a more prideful person would be offended. Maybe a less greedy person would tell him to spend the money on himself.

But, she… she had managed to start a _college fund_ with that money and they were eating real food again and-

“ _Thank you_ ,” she says, trying to will herself not to cry.

He freezes for a moment but she shows no signs of letting go and so she feels when he relaxes.

His arms come up to wrap around her tentatively and then he takes a deep breath and she remembers idly Scott saying that she always smelled like _home_ and _mom_ and _family_ and she is suddenly horrified to think that Derek doesn’t have anyone. Not anymore.

“Dinner,” she says, finally letting him go. She pretends to adjust her purse so she can look down and he won’t see her face. “Once a week.”

“We already do dinner once a week,” Derek says, blinking at her. He’s right. Friday nights are Pack nights and Derek hosts them at his loft and Melissa would be willing to bet that Derek is the one who always pays for however many pizzas it takes to feed the gaggle of teenagers now considered “pack.”

“ _Homemade_ dinner,” she clarifies. “My house. Wednesdays. Every Wednesday.”

“You really don’t have to,” Derek says, shifting awkwardly. “That’s not why-”

“It’s usually my day off,” she talks over him. “The sheriff always works so Stiles comes.”

“But-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Derek,” she says and then walks away.

It’s not payment for what he has done. She can never repay him for that.

It’s because he needs it and she loves him and she has somehow just gained another.

(And she might see what she can do to get these mutual crushes off the ground too.)


	6. Kira

“We’re going dress shopping!” Kira declares one morning as Melissa opens the door.

She blinks. It’s her usual Wednesday off and she has been expecting Scott, who told her to keep the day open and what’s more, Kira already _has_ the dress and-

“What?” she says. And then she is concerned. Because maybe something is wrong with the dress or Kira has decided she hates it or the store lost their order. She opens her mouth to ask her next questions: _What’s wrong with it? Do you need me to call someone?_ But Kira slides in to grab her purse from where it sits on the table by her front door (she really had been ready to go) and is already moving and Melissa worries all the more.

Kira has the ability to be slightly more firm than her son when it comes to dealing with salespeople but only just and if someone has made a mistake and needs a good talking to, well, then, Melissa is more than willing to be the one to do it.

Of course, Noshiko is also a force to be reckoned with (probably why she and Melissa get along so well) but Kira is at her door saying they need to go dress shopping and-

“Come on,” Kira says, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car. “Lydia is meeting us there.”

Oh god, it must be serious if Lydia is getting involved. Melissa takes a deep breath. She will handle this.

She will handle this because Kira is sweet and joyful and smart and matches Scott in all the important ways and four months ago, Scott fumbled through a question on his knee and Kira squealed “yes” before he even managed to finish (which was really for the best as it has already dragged on for almost five minutes).

She will handle this because money isn’t _tight_ but it’s not abundant, not with the wedding being funded by a nurse and a school teacher, but Kira hasn’t even seemed to notice. She is buzzing with constant ideas and joy and Melissa will not let that diminish even for a moment.

She will handle this because Scott is handling attempting to find a photographer in their price range (or somehow convincing one to shoot their wedding anyway) and Stiles is handling bullying various people into bringing the right food for the potluck and Derek is handling making sure that the spot they picked on the preserve is cleared out and full of flowers on the day. And Lydia seems to be planning literally every other detail that no one else even realizes have to be planned.

Mostly though, she will handle this because she has always heard horror stories about how the Mother of the Groom is simply not as important as the Mother of the Bride and isn’t often included in the wedding things. She’s heard the stories of bride’s simply dominating everything and pulling your son away from you and Kira has done nothing but the opposite from the moment she finished hugging Scott and threw her arms around Melissa.

Kira calls and e-mails and plans her appointment around Melissa’s schedule and-

Melissa will not let anything bad happen to the dress. It is simple and sweet and _flows_ and Melissa was _there_ to see the look on Kira’s face when she tried it on. Not even Lydia had a single thing to say against it.

“Is something wrong?” Kira asks after just a few minutes in the car, clearly reading the distress on Melissa’s face. “Are you too busy to go right now? Scott said that you were free but- oh god, I just dragged you out of your house! I’m sorry, I was overexcited. I can-”

“No, no, sweetie,” Melissa says. “You just gotta give me more details. What went wrong with the dress? Was it not in stock? Are they trying to charge you too much? You gotta tell me what we’re dealing with so I can sort it out.”

“Dealing with?” Kira says and then a look of realization comes over her face. “Oh, no, Mrs. McCall. There’s nothing wrong with _my_ dress.”

“Then why-?”

“We’re going dress shopping for _you_ ,” Kira clarifies, the smile back on her face. “For _your_ dress.”

“What?” Melissa asks dumbly.

“For the Mother of the Groom dress,” Kira says, eyes twinkling. “We’re thinking a deep purple. To complement the bridesmaids’.”

“You- we’re… we’re going dress shopping?” Melissa repeats. “For me?”

“Well, not until this afternoon actually,” Kira tells her. “First we’re going for a pedicure and make-up trial. It’s gonna be a whole girls’ day.”

“Oh,” Melissa says dumbly. She doesn’t remember the last time she’s gotten a pedicure. Or really gone dress shopping. She’s not sure she’s ever had her make-up professionally done. Unless you counted Rafe’s cousin who was “in training” at the time of their wedding.

“We’ll get lunch and cocktails too!” Kira promises. “Oh and we’ll take tons of pictures. It’s gonna be great!”

“Yeah,” Melissa says, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that _this_ is her plan for the day.

“But, maybe I should have checked with you first,” Kira says, glancing over nervously. “I mean-”

“No,” Melissa says, waving away Kira’s concerns. “This is… this is perfect.”

And Kira smiles at her and Melissa grins back.


	7. Bonus

Everyone is panicking.

Scott has been pacing around the house for four hours now,alternating between holding Kira’s hand and then whining to Stiles whenever Kira kicks him out of the room for “making her too nervous.” Stiles is crouched over the kitchen table, crouched over at least seven different books and two laptops, frantically searching for anything that might help the situation.

Derek is at least pretending to be calm, has insisted that he had been through this before, that everything will be okay but Melissa doesn’t believe him for a second. Because he has taken to repeating “It’s going to be okay. My mom did this four times. It’s going to be okay” and maybe it started as an attempt to settle Stiles but now he is really just muttering it to himself.

Even Lydia, still at MIT, is texting different members of the pack in rapid succession. There is literally no hope of answering all her questions or replying to all of her status update requests.

Melissa would like to panic. She really would. She had told them a _thousand_ times that this was a bad idea. That a nurse and a vet were, quite simply, _not qualified_ to do this and, god, she wasn’t even the right _type_ of nurse. She never should have let them talk her into this.

But apparently this is an still-used werewolf custom and Kira had agreed to it and, yes, perhaps a hospital staff would be rightfully confused by delivering a baby that may or may not come out a werewolf and/or sparking electricity but-

But _really_. This is a _ridiculous_ idea.

Magical superpowers or not, having a baby is dangerous and there could be complications and oh God, oh God, she-

She takes a deep breath.

She can’t panic.

There should be at least two calm people in this situation and they should probably be the two people who have somehow been drafted into _delivering the baby._

Well, at least Deaton seems composed enough.

“Okay, Kira,” she says, putting on her best “I know everything and am in complete control” voice. She had learned it as a nurse and then perfected it as a mother. “We’re going to start pushing in just a minute, okay?  
  


“Okay,” Kira says and maybe she looks calmer than the boys but only just. She is nodding too quickly and the light in the room flickers for a moment and Melissa remembers the feeling. “Okay, you should get Scott.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Scott is barging through the door.

“What is it?” her son says, eyes glowing red as if there is some sort of danger. “Is something wrong? Do you need me to take more pain? Should I get Derek? He could totally take even more! Derek!”

Melissa can’t help but roll her eyes. Scott and Derek had been alternating taking any pain Kira might be experiencing since the moment she had so much as frowned as the contractions started. It’s a wonder Kira even knows she’s having a baby.

“No, Scott,” Melissa starts. “We’re just going to-”

Derek is bursting through the door a moment later.

“What is it?” he asks. “I can totally take more. I’ve done this with Cora. It will all be okay.”

“Everything’s fi-”

“I found something!” Stiles announces, careening into the room. He’s holding a particularly old textbook. “Okay, it’s not quite a kitsune, _but_ apparently in the 7 thcentury there were rumors of some kind of lightning _bird_ – impundulu or something - and they would bury their eggs where lightning would strike so we should probably avoid burying the baby. At least for a little while.”

Scott nods earnestly.

“Stiles,” Derek grumbles. “No one had plan to bury the baby!”

“Oh,” Stiles says. “Right. Well…”

“Still good to know,” Scott says, smiling encouragement and Melissa hears Kira giggle. If there is any sign that Kira is right for Scott, it is that she seems endlessly entertained by these knuckleheads rather than annoyed.

Still-

“Boys!” she says, cutting off the conversation that is sure to continue. “It’s time to start pushing. Scott, go hold Kira’s hand. You two-” she waves a hand at Stiles and Derek. “Out!”

“Out?” Stiles says, looking horrified by the idea. “What are we supposed to do? The waiting will kill me! I’m too nervous to even make out with Derek! Maybe we should just-”

Melissa was about to kill him but luckily Derek grabs him by the collar and yanks him away.

The door closes behind them with a click. Melissa takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” she says. “Let’s do this.”

*^*^*^

Twenty-seven minutes later, it’s over.

She’s handed the baby to Deaton and it- _she_ – has already stopped crying and Scott has said “Oh my god” more times that she could even begin to keep track of.

Kira  looks exhausted and alive and Scott looks rightly awed and terrified and –

It’s over.

Deaton has the baby swaddled in an instant, and is giving her to Kira in the next and then nods calmly as if he didn’t just _deliver a baby_ and leaves the room.

For a moment, Melissa wonders if she should give them their privacy as well but she can’t make herself leave.

She’s a grandmother. It doesn’t seem real, but it is.

Everyone is safe and healthy and Kira carefully hands the baby to Scott and Melissa is just coming off the adrenaline rush, just starting to calm down when Scott suddenly turns to her.

She knows that it’s been twenty six years since she first saw Scott smile, that he’s an adult now, that his face has grown and changed but she swears that it’s still the exact same smile.

“Want to hold her?” Scott asks and Melissa automatically shakes her head.

No, not yet. Scott is there as Rafe hadn’t been and the two new parents should have their moment and she is tired and sweaty and her hair is a mess and she had just _delivered a baby_ and-

“Here,” Scott says and suddenly her arms are full and she is-

_She is beautiful_. She is the most beautiful, perfect baby to ever exist and Melissa can’t even smile she is so amazed.

“Okay, _now,_ can I tell her?” Scott asks, sending his trademark pleading eyes over to Kira. Kira is fading, Melissa can see when she manages to tear her eyes away from the bundle in her arms. She should probably kick everybody out and let her rest, but her daughter in law smiles and nods.

“Tell me what?” Melissa asks, holding the baby closer.

“Her name,” Scott says. “We’ve had it picked out for weeks.”

Melissa blinks. In a rare display of Alpha-authority, Scott had banned any and all debate over the naming of his first child. He had said that he and Kira were deciding and despite the loud and rather frightening protests from Stiles, they had stuck to it.

“What is it?” Melissa asks.

“Well, we were hoping… Maria,” Scott says and something in Melissa’s stomach drops.

“That’s- that was my-”

“Your mom’s name,” Scott says. “I know.”

Scott had never met her mother. Her mother had died when she was nineteen and had missed her graduation and her wedding and her child and her divorce and –

Melissa looks down at the baby in her arms. Her vision is blurry with tears.

“Is that okay?” Scott asks and she can hear the panic in his voice. She looks over to see that Kira is staring at her with concerned eyes as well.

“Oh, you- yes,” she says. “Yes, that’s – It’s beautiful.”

Melissa had never risked having another child. Rafe was drinking too much and she was too busy and her mother has been dead for a long time and yet there is a baby in her arms with her name.

She doesn’t know quite how to say all that, how to explain what this _means_ to her, isn’t quite sure how to say _Thank You_ when those two words are vastly inadequate but when she finally manages to meet her son’s eyes again, she is pretty sure he knows.

 The silence only lasts for a moment, then-

“Please _, please_ can we come in now?” Stiles’ voice is a desperate whine and Melissa hurries to reach one hand up and wipe her face because she knows that Scott has never said no to that voice in his life.

“You can come in!” Kira calls, laughing. And then Stiles and Derek are by her side, each bending over to peer down at the child in her arms.

“She’s tiny,” Derek says, his voice dropping in the way he usually reserves for Stiles.

“Are they always this _small_?” Stiles asks, tentatively reaching a hand out without touching her. “I mean… she’s like… _tiny_ tiny.”

“She’s healthy,” Melissa assures him. “Do you want to hold her?”

She directs the question to Stiles because Stiles has been talking to Kira’s stomach for weeks and there were times in the past nine months when she was positive Stiles might be even more excited than Scott. It’s already a disaster, how much Stiles loves this baby.

He is going to be a terrible influence. Melissa can’t wait to watch.

But when she moves to let him hold his niece, Stiles practically leaps away from her.

“Oh god no!” He says, swinging to practically hide behind Derek. “I’d drop her. Don’t let me anywhere near her.”

“God, Stiles, don’t be such a wimp,” Derek grumbles.

“I’m trying to save her! l need to read up on the technique!”

“There’s no- Can I?” Derek asks, glancing at Scott and Scott is already nodding his agreement.

Derek lifts her from Melissa’s arms carefully and he’s clearly done this before. Immediately Stiles crowds closer once more.

“Oh, there she is,” Stiles crones, waving his fingers in front of her face. “Hi, Maria, I’m your Uncle Stiles. I’m going to spoil you so rotten. Yes, I am. Mhhmm, I’ll even get Uncle Derek to help. He cooks the best chocolate chip pancakes. We’ll let you eat them every day.”

“You better not,” Scott says, grinning. “And, wait… how did you know her name?”

“You changed your password to ‘Maria’ 3 weeks ago, dude,” Stiles replies, not bothering to look up.

Kira laughs. Scott pouts.

“Try to get her to shift, Derek,” Stiles says, poking the werewolf in the side. “Flash your eyes at her. No, wait, Scott, you come do it. You’re the Alpha.”

“Stiles,” Scott grumbles. “She was born three minutes ago! We’re not encouraging shifting!”

“Tomorrow then?” Stiles asks.

“Maybe next week,” Scott replies and Stiles rolls his eyes but follows as Derek heads back over to Kira and so for a moment, Melissa is left standing next to her son.

She looks at his face to see him staring at Kira and Stiles and Derek and Maria, at his family and of all the times she has seen Scott smile, she has never seen quite this version.

“Scott, you- you’re gonna be really good at this,” she tells him, not entirely sure why she is crying. She’s tired and warm and… _proud._ God, half the time she felt like she was stumbling and falling and scrambling but… she- she must’ve done something right.

“I know,” he says, wrapping her in a hug.

“I learned from the best.”

End.

*^*^*^

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!! :)


End file.
